Scars
by Jaina Durron
Summary: At the beginning of Han and Leia's long journey to Bespin, Han learns something horrifying about Leia's time on the Death Star.


With the _Millennium Falcon_ now flying blissfully through space, Han left Chewie and the controls and turned to his passenger. Leia sat in the seat behind him, seemingly content as she was, but she always enjoyed letting Han know what he'd done wrong. She sat there quietly with her arms crossed and, Han, as he was proud to note, could pick out the annoyance in her look she was trying so hard to hide. He beamed at her in a smug way, positive it would rattle her chains. It did. "Well, Your Worship. It's been a while since we've had you on board, but you are always a welcomed guest. How may I best serve-"

"I still had matters to check on!" the princess suddenly exploded, jumping to her feet. "We were in the middle of an evacuation and many people were still on the base-!"

"Including yourself, Princess," Han pointed out. "What's the matter now? You know, you need to learn to accept it when people other trying to rescue you."

Leia's eyes narrowed and Han swore he could her blood boiling within her. "I didn't need rescuing," she insisted. "My personal transport was waiting for me-"

"And it got blocked off, remember? You needed a ship out and I got you one. What? Not up to your usual royal standards?"

"I am an officer of this rebellion-!"

"I know. You try ordering me around all the time."

"And i was still helping _others_ to safety as well as commanding our own forced when you manhandled me-!"

" _Manhandle?_ Now, this I gotta' hear."

"And dragged me off to your ship!"

Han leaned forward, towering over the petite princess as he taunted her, asking, "I thought you wanted me to stay. Well, this will certainly keep me around a bit longer."

"I meant with the Alliance," Leia was quick to correct as a bit fo color managed to rush to her cheeks.

"Ah, see, that's not what I think you meant."

"You're delusional!"

"Running low on insults, are we? Have you tried 'scoundrel' yet?"

"You had no right to just drag me off like that!"

"Well, I'm sorry, sweetheart," Han leered down at her. Then stopped. It was a glimpse of crimson red that caught his eye and Han changed his gaze from Leia's eyes to her shoulder. It was the faintest stain of red showing on her snow white winter suit that started a nervous reaction in Han. He reached out to brush his fingers on the color, but Leia instantly jerked back, flashing him a scowl. "Stop that! It's fine," she said hastily.

"So, you noticed." Han turned back to the pilot's seat and reached under it to retrieve a medpac. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's fine," Leia repeated and shook her head, hurrying out of the cockpit.

"Wait!" Han ran after her, medpac in hand, and chased her to the crew quarters where he picked her up and sat down with her in his lap. Leia squirmed and thrashed, fighting his hold while he struggled to take off her vest. "Please, Leia. Just let me see. I'll bandage it for you."

"It was just a patch of ice that hit me when we were running to the _Falcon."_

"That hit you, made you start bleeding, but you're fine?"

"Yes," Leia said and jerked her shoulder out of Han's grip. "It hurt, but it's fine now. I'll stop bleeding soon enough."

"No," Han said firmly and quickly pulled her layers of clothes over her shoulder. He froze. Like crosshatch work, the skin on Leia's shoulder was covered in red scars, crossing over each other, marking all the skin Han had revealed and some, Han could tell, were still hiding under her clothes.

Leia's breath caught, loudly, and Han's attention was jerked back to her as a whole. She broke Han's now feeble grip on her. All of a sudden, she looked nervous and he looked scared and the two were quite speechless for a long moment before the latter found his words. "Those . . . those scars . . . they're from the Death Star, aren't they?"

Leia nodded, mute.

"What did they do to you?" Han asked, mortified by the dozens of scars on Leia's back and shoulders.

For another long moment, Leia didn't answer. She couldn't even look at him. But once she could, Leia gave a not-so-pleasant smile and told him, "Interrogator droids are real."

* * *

 _ ***Bespin, just before carbonite***_

Leia sat on the floor beside the metal bunk she'd left Han lying on. Her hope withering like a thin rope of twine, she dared herself and hung on to the new, exotic, thrilling emotion she'd recently succumbed to. Upon reaching for it, her love for Han triumphed over the darkness clouding her morale and she managed a smile as she reached up to take his hand.

Han turned his head and smiled down at her. "You look lonely down there, sitting by yourself on the cold floor." Groaning with the effort, Han sat up on the bunk and patted his lap. "C'mere, Princess."

Leia refrained from rolling her eyes and sat in his lap. Now, she found herself taking back a few words she'd said to Han earlier on their trip. _Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited._ She took those words back and shuddered as Han pulled her back in his lap so she could feel his breath hot against her neck. Leia but her lip, relaxing in Han's arms. "We're going to die," she muttered, her eyes fluttering closed. "And we _just_ started to . . . "

"To what?" Han murmured in her ear. "Surrender to our feelings? That sounds tragically romantic. How about this?" Han bent his neck and Leia felt his fingers pull at the neck of her jumpsuit before his lips touched down on her scarred shoulder. He planted kisses along each of her scars, leaving Leia feeling exhilarated.

Then, Vader returned to collect them.

* * *

 _ ***After Tatooine, before Endor***_

Han sat on his bunk at an angle so he could watch Leia as she stood in the refresher braiding her hair. When finished, she came out and joined Han on his bunk. He couldn't tear his gaze from her, stuck on her beautiful eyes and breath-taking smile. "I missed you," he said, reaching to pull her close.

"I know," Leia responded, half joking, half serious.

Han went in for her lips, but Leia laughed, pushing him back. "Silly, flyboy." She pulled her shirt off her shoulder, exposing her scarred flesh, and reminded him, "We left off here. Remember?"


End file.
